by Cheryl Howe
“I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
“Neither do I.” She turned and faced the portal, keeping Nolan at her back. Though her breasts were bound and she could pluck the map without showing an inch of skin below her collarbone, Nolan’s stare seemed to eat through cloth. Her hands shook even as she tried to convince herself being alone with him in his cabin meant nothing.
“Jewel. No. This won’t be necessary.”
She quickly refastened her shirt and turned to face him. “The map. You asked for it when you shut the door.” She held the paper out to him.
Nolan stared at it as if she were holding a live frog. “You were getting the map?” He glanced back up at her, and she swore he blushed. He took it without touching her fingers.
“It’s all I have to bargain with. Did you expect something else?” His reaction assured her he had, and that his desire for her had unnerved him. But as she stood there, trembling and out of breath, she wasn’t sure if the knowledge would help her or be a total disaster. Apparently she would not be able to slip past Nolan’s defenses without breaching her own.
He leaned over the desk with his back to her. Jewel moved behind him to get a glimpse over his shoulder. He had the map unfolded on the desk, gently smoothing out the wrinkles with his tanned fingers. Jewel marveled at the gentleness with which his big hands caressed the crinkled paper. She wondered how he would touch a woman. She both feared and anticipated finding out.
When he glanced at her over his shoulder, his gaze searched her face. “Why did you just hand this to me? We haven’t made any bargain. I could just take it, and that would be the end of it.”
“You said you honored your promises.” Jewel blinked at this sudden change. Whatever had passed between them was tamped down just as easily as his anger. She took a deep breath, knowing she wasn’t nearly as efficient as he in hiding how she felt. She pursed her lips, fearing they had been wet and parted.
“Yes, but you don’t know what that promise was. Jewel, you shouldn’t trust me, or anyone. Please tell me you haven’t shown this to anyone else?”
“No, I haven’t shown it to anyone else. I’m not stupid.” Except when it came to him, apparently.
Nolan smiled at her before turning back to the map. “I can see that.” He traced the first line of the text. “It’s written in Latin, so I doubt it would do many people any good if you had.”
It could have been ancient Persian for all she knew. It had never bothered her before; lots of women couldn’t read. But the idea of admitting it to Nolan tightened her throat with embarrassment. She wanted to be viewed as Nolan’s equal.
His gaze narrowed on the map. He shook his head as if he didn’t like what he saw.
“What’s wrong?”
He drew a line with his finger to the sketch of an island. “I thought my Latin lessons would show me what I missed before, but it still gives directions to Gardiner’s Island. Bellamy and I, as well as half the colony of New York, have already dug there.”
“You must have missed something.” Jewel had gazed at as many maps as she could, trying to match the sketch. The small speck of Gardiner’s Island, off the coast of New York, didn’t resemble the drawing on this map.
“Maybe, or...” He paused, as if he meant to say something more but decided against it. “Or we dug in the wrong spot. Perhaps the directions will be clearer to me this time.”
“I’ve been studying the map every night since my father left it with me. We’ll find it.” Though she couldn’t read the words, she had stared at the picture so many times she knew she’d recognize the location of the treasure. Jewel raised her hand to lay it on Nolan’s shoulder, and then quickly thought better of it. She feared a simple comforting touch between them would not be so simple.
Nolan neatly folded the map and handed it back to her. “You aren’t coming with me, Jewel.”
She took the map from him. He pulled away before their fingers brushed. She said, “I don’t understand. Why are you giving the map back to me?”
“Because my offer from the start was to give you your share of the treasure when I find it, and to see to your safety. That means Boston. My family is there, and they can find you an honorable situation. If you don’t want marriage, there are upstanding widows in need of companions.” He smoothed back the dark wisps of hair that refused to stay in the black silk bow at the back of his neck.
She stared at him, unable to believe what he was suggesting. “You didn’t stay in Boston. Would either of the options you’re giving me appeal to you?”
“I don’t dictate what society sees as proper. I know life hasn’t been easy for you, considering your circumstances.” He looked away for a moment.
Jewel feared he assumed those circumstances were far more compromising than they had actually been. She squared her shoulders, unable to tolerate pity from him of all people. “I have the map, Nolan, and with it, I plan to rise above my circumstances.”
“I hope you see reason by the time we reach Boston. You can take my cabin for the voyage. Here’s the key. Be sure to keep it locked at night.” He dropped the brass key in her hand, again without physical contact.
She briefly wished to face his rage rather than his obvious dismissal. “I’m not giving you the map, and to get me to set foot on shore you’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming.”
“If that’s your choice,” he said.
His calm demeanor only increased her anger and determination to make him see reason. “None of this is my choice! You know damn well what I would choose.” Her raised voice along with a curse tossed in for good measure didn’t even cause him to blink.
“Well, Boston is all I’m offering. If you wish, we can still turn around and drop you off in Charles Town. You can decide while I see to the new men.” Nolan picked up the red silk scarf the map had been wrapped in and slipped it into an inside pocket of his jacket.
“My scarf. I want it back. My father gave it to me.” She didn’t care about the stupid thing, but if he wanted it, she didn’t want Nolan to have it.
He pulled the scarf out of his pocket. He rubbed it between his fingers. “Do you mind if I keep it?”
He wanted something of hers. She raised her eyebrows. Perhaps he wasn’t as detached as he appeared. “By all means, keep it if it’s important to you. Unlike you, I’m reasonable.” She’d show him how to negotiate.
Nolan glanced up, his blue eyes cold and unreadable. “It belonged to my grandfather. It’s one of the few things my father didn’t get rid of. Between that and the map, I thought you wouldn’t mind parting with the lesser of the two.”
“Then you must understand how I feel parting with the only thing my father ever gave me.” She folded her arms over her chest.
The dullness in his eyes sparked, and his answering nod was more curt than polite. “We’ll talk later.”
He left the cabin before he lost his temper, Jewel suspected. Perhaps if she could provoke his fury again, she’d discover a weak spot in the stone fortress he’d built around himself. Anything to penetrate his detached composure.
Jewel plopped down on the bed. Her teeth clanked together, jarred by its firmness. How did Nolan sleep here? She ran her fingers over the coarse woolen blanket covering the bunk. Obviously, he felt no need for softness in his life, not even the simple comfort of a decent bed. Though the bunk devoured a good portion of the cabin, she imagined Nolan’s feet still hung over the edge.
She leaned her head back on the polished curve of the ship’s hull. Nolan seemed just as determined to get rid of her as she was to stay. But he had his weaknesses or he would not have given her back the map. And like him, she’d learned a thing or two of human nature over the years. She’d be taking too much of a risk if she trusted another captain to help her find the treasure. Nolan Kenton was her only choice, and she’d do anything in her power to make him see that.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nolan followed the gaze of every man on board. Jewel’s appearance on deck rattled hi
s hard-won self-control. She had taken off her jacket, rolled up her sleeves and tied her shirt at her waist, exposing slim hips and a delectable rump in close-fitting men’s breeches. Her arms were spread wide, with her palms and face turned toward the sun like some pagan worshipper. The wind caught her hair, creating a dark halo, and he corrected himself. Jewel was the goddess, and all the gawking men on board, himself included, were the worshippers.
Before he stomped across the deck and dragged her below—his first impulse—Nolan tried to slip back into the detached, rational man he’d been when he left her cabin. The man he’d convinced himself he’d become when he put aside his orderly life to retrieve his grandfather’s cursed map. Unfortunately, maintaining a sober countenance didn’t come as easily in Jewel’s presence as it did in his parents’ household. There, each hour of the day was scheduled with moral, bland activities. Even dinner—boiled beef, boiled potatoes and boiled beets—was served with a minimum of aggravating spice. Jewel presented Nolan a steady diet of volatile, spirit harming emotions—guilt, anger, and lust. If she had turned to face him in his cabin with her shirt open and her breasts bared, he would have been eternally lost.
According to his father, the good Lord had a way of sending what a person most needed to resist. He certainly was proving that by dumping Jewel in Nolan’s lap.
Jewel dragged her fingers through her tousled hair, and Parker, along with several other men, gaped openly. Not that she was the most classically beautiful woman any of them had ever seen, but her unconsciously sultry appeal was impossible to escape. Her hair, a muted dark brown, caught the midday sun and smoldered with hints of fire. Her angular face was softened by full lips, which at the moment curled into a secretive smile. The freckles spattering her nose suddenly seemed exotic rather than innocent. And though Nolan was spared their effect at this distance, her unusual green eyes were hypnotic.
Apart from her physical appeal, it was the way she stood, arms splayed to the heavens and the way she’d confronted the soldiers in the tavern with unwarranted yet total confidence that chipped away at his resolve. Jewel Sanderson had a passion for life yet to be tempered by reality. Which was why she had to be expelled from his ship. Nolan would not be the one to permanently cloud her bright gaze or strain her easy smiles. If being abandoned by her father and working in a tavern hadn’t done that, he and his men would not. Though his crew were all good men, handpicked for their honesty if not their seamanship, they were still men.
“Mr. Tyrell,” Nolan finally shouted. Parker took several moments to respond, and when he finally did, it was with barely disguised irritation. “Take the new men and find them something to eat. It looks like the British starved them.”
Parker nodded, and then returned his gaze to Jewel. Hadn’t he ever seen a woman before? Not one in men’s clothing, Nolan would wager. “Mr. Tyrell, you have your orders,” he warned.
Parker answered without looking at him. “Aye, Captain.” He rounded up the sailors. As Nolan feared, they ranged from fifteen to sixty, most being on the extremes. He doubted even a month of good meals would put any meat on their bones.
Parker had to pass Jewel on his way to the companionway, but he didn’t have to veer in her direction and pause to bow flirtatiously. Normally, the man had the utmost respect for women, and the fact that he gawked at Jewel past a point considered polite proved how much of a problem Nolan had on his hands. Whether she had or had not ventured into bartering of the sexual kind, it bothered Nolan that Parker obviously thought she had. Yet who could blame the young lieutenant. Jewel wasn’t ladylike. Her bold arrival on his ship proved that.
Nolan’s advance encouraged Parker to move on, the new crew members in tow. Only the lads had the audacity to continue to gape at Jewel over their shoulders.
“What a beautiful day, Nolan,” she called. “I’ve never been on a ship before.” Her eyes drifted shut while she continued to angle her face to the sun. She sighed deeply, sensuously. “I feel so free.”
Nolan stood stiffly beside her with his arms folded over his chest. He remembered how he’d first felt on the deck of a ship. How free. That was an eternity ago, and some of his bitter lessons had soured his pleasure of the sea. He felt like he’d aged fifty years in her presence.
“Jewel.” Keep it formal, he reminded himself. “Miss Sanderson. As a passenger on my ship, I must ask that you abide by my rules. You should call me Captain Kenton.”
Jewel saluted him, gave an insubordinate grin. “Aye aye, Captain Kenton.”
Nolan frowned until he felt a new wrinkle crease his brow. His intention was not to amuse her. “Secondly, I expect you to dress appropriately.”
Jewel looked down at her clothes and, surprisingly, blushed. “Sorry, I guess I forgot my coat. The weather is so splendid. The wind smells of faraway places, not like on the shore, where it stinks of brine and rotting fish. I never imagined how wonderful it would be on a ship! How did you stay on land for so long?”
Nolan crushed the small surge of pleasure he felt at having his ship introduce her to the rapture of being under sail. “You forgot your dress. I can’t have you parading around in men’s clothing.”
“But I have nothing else to wear.” She tugged at the ends of the shirt tail she’d tied around her waist, while Nolan tried not to notice that the action stretched the thin material against her breasts.
“Then you give me no choice. I must confine you to my cabin.” He swallowed hard, trying not to choke on his words. They conjured up a flood of unwanted images, all of them involving Jewel and no clothing. Confined to his cabin. All day. All night.
“That’s not fair.” She let go of her shirt and balled her hands into fists, as if she longed to take a swing at him.
He willed her to, so he could respond by carrying her to his cabin without further argument. Unfortunately, the surge of desire warned Nolan he was in dangerous territory. He clasped his hands behind his back and didn’t speak until he could confidently erase any hint of emotion from his voice. “What’s not fair is your stowing away on my ship and causing my men to be pressed into service by the British.”
She planted her fisted hands on her hips. The wind plastered her thin white shirt to her body, clearly outlining her small, firm breasts and hardened nipples. She’d most definitely done away with their binding. “That wasn’t my fault. They were going to take your men anyway.”
Nolan had trouble diverting his gaze, imagining he could see the reddish pink circles at the tip of each breast. With extreme effort, he dragged his gaze back to Jewel’s face. She folded her arms over her chest and looked at him as if he were a vile letch. He felt the need to say, “I’m mere flesh and bone like any other man. Your choice of clothes is a distraction my men don’t need.”
She glared at him. “Well, that’s good to know. I was beginning to wonder—about you being flesh and bone rather than rock, that is. And as for the other, I’ll wear my jacket from now on. You better get used to me, Nolan. If you want the map, I come with it. I don’t think my going with you is too much to ask, considering what I’m bringing with me.”
Nolan’s control slipped. “You don’t have the right to ask for anything. You stole on board my ship, knowing full well I didn’t want you here. From here on out, you will follow my orders without discussion like every other man on board this vessel. Now go below!”
She narrowed her gaze and lowered her voice. “You might be the master of this ship, Captain Kenton”—she sneered the title—“but you aren’t the only captain in the colonies interested in what I have to offer. Dump me in Boston and I’ll find someone to take your place within the hour.”
Nolan stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from wringing her neck. The urge to tell her that she didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle, that she didn’t have the book, almost overcame him just to dissolve her confident grin. Common sense and the fact that he wasn’t sure how his father’s book on the occult fit in stopped him. “I’m sure you’d have no problem finding a man w
ho could satisfy your needs and his own in the process. Is that what you want?”
She didn’t flinch at his deliberate crudeness. In fact, she appeared more composed than he. “Apparently, that’s what you want.”
“I want the bloody map, and what happens to you after that is no concern of mine. Now go below.” Nolan turned and strode to the railing, before he did something he might regret. He gripped the smooth, varnished wood with enough force to turn his knuckles white. The strong winds coming off the sea managed to cool his cheeks. He took several deep breaths. When he could again see the green of the ocean and the blue of the sky without the angry red film that had clouded his vision, he glanced over his shoulder. Jewel stood anchored in the spot in which he had left her. Her hands were on her hips and her feet were braced, daring him to drag her below.
He took several more deep breaths, and then slowly walked back to where she stood. If she couldn’t see that he teetered on the verge of snapping, he would no longer hold himself responsible for his actions. “Miss Sanderson, please go below.”
She took a step back but held that new ground. Under the weight of his steady stare, her gaze finally faltered.
“I’m not giving you the map,” she said almost under her breath. Then she turned abruptly and walked toward the hatchway, never giving him a backward glance.
He stood rooted to the deck. Damnation. He had been to sea for less than a month and already Jewel would force him to sink lower than he had ever wanted to go.
***
The brass handle turned without a catch. Nolan cursed silently. He’d told her to lock the damned door. Bloody hell, since meeting Jewel again he was swearing like a sailor and thinking like a pirate. Outwardly, he might still appear the decorous privateer captain, but inside he knew he was slipping back to his old ways. He had to get Jewel off his ship even if it meant using the pirate still lurking in his soul to do it.
He tucked the metal file he had brought to pick the lock in the waistband of his breeches. In the sleepy hours between midnight and dawn, he allowed himself to go without a coat, rolling up his shirt sleeves against the balmy southern nights. The gentle creak of the riggings blended with the faint sound of wind and wave. A calm night afloat could rock a grown man to sleep like a newborn baby. Surely it would lull one overconfident troublemaker into slumber.